The Answer To a Question
by LordofGoats
Summary: A man of Rohan is asked a question, was he being truthful? Now complete
1. A partial answer

**AN: This is my first try at anything resembling a decent story, so please be gentle.**

**AN: Got my first review and I took into account what the review said. I hope the chapter is easier to read now.**

**An: Yup after the third edit, I think it may be ready to be called complete**

The wind howled. The wind always howled out here, Aethor noticed. Out here on the plains of Rohan, with the sun sinking towards the horizon and the clouds reddening, the scent of wood smoke on the wind. The only sounds he had to deal with on his farm were the sound of his animals. Oh how he wished for the sounds of laughing children and his singing wife. Aethor shook his head, he had decided long ago that he must not think of his dead family again. But when did anything he say make any difference in his own mind.

His wife had been a young pretty girl of sixteen when they had married. Her name was Elfilde, her hair was bright and yellow as fresh straw and her smile lit up the world. She had been the desire of every unmarried man in the village, and many of the married men as well. Why she had chosen him was still a mystery to Aethor. She was kind and gentle but firm, and if he was ever being particularly stubborn or upset her he often found himself sleeping in the barn. He had never begrudged her for making him do that. She had turned him from a rash young rider into a sensible man who would think before he acted. She had also never complained about his service to the king, and had put up with his night terrors after he returned from the war.

His two children had been young and feisty, always out in the fields playing when they were not helping their mother with the chores. His son Aidan, had been eight summers old, and lived up to his namesake 'fiery one'. He often went and defended the farm from imaginary raiders, Aethor had been beginning to consider trying to find him an apprenticeship in the village. His son's hair was a dirty blond color and he had grown into a strong lad. His daughter, Annis was the mirror image of her mother, and loved helping to do chores around the house, he hair was as yellow and shiny as her mothers and she was just as good at winding her stubborn father around her little finger.

His family had all been killed in a raid by Uruk-hai raiders on their farm, he had been out in the fields that day when he saw the smoke and heard the screams. It had been a beautiful evening and he had been looking forward to a nice pot of stew that his Elfilde had started that morning. He ached, but it was a pleasant ache of a job well done. He had planned that evening to show his wife quite how much he appreciated her and all she had done for him. He had rushed home with but it was too late. His wife was dead and ravished, repeatedly. Her body which was still young and firm was shredded, with her rosy buds torn off with razor teeth and her thighs coated with blood from where she had been forced to take the orcs hard members, her hair was shining with blood from the wound which had ripped across her throat. It appeared her attackers had taken pleasure in burning her body with coals from their fire and had even despoiled the stew with their waste. His young son was split open from neck to groin in the doorway. When he saw that was when his tears had started, the boy was barely eight summers old, and yet he still lay dead on the flagstone floor. He appeared to have died trying to defend his mother from the raiders. Clutched in his hands to the very end was the knife he had been gifted on his seventh birthday. The worst was his daughter though. He had found her upstairs in her room with the door smashed down and her dress torn off. She had been ravished as well. She had been six summers old, her face was turned to the wall as if to block the sight of the monsters.

He was shaken out of his memories of the times long past, when he felt a hard nudge in the ribs and the harsh whisper from Eodrag reminded him of the slavers, which was the entire reason they were out here at the dead of night.

"Come on boys, kill these scum and we can get back to our beds," Aethor tried to shake his head again to look down on the scene before him. Out of the group of men around him, he was the most experienced, as he had fought Orcs and evil men at the battle of Pellanor fields and then at the Black gate. He remembered the feeling of awe when he thundered down the plain at the vast massed ranks of the enemy. The shining figure of his king leading them to battle, a battle they never thought they could win. Each yell had been dedicated to his wife, who waited back home, already swelling with their son. Oh how he missed her. Reaching down he drew his sword from his scabbard and heard the shuffling as the other men adjusted their swords. The quiet grumbling of their horses was the only other sound to disturb the silence.

In a harsh whisper that was passed down the line Aethor whispered "Just remember lads, we aren't aiming to kill em all, we just want to scatter them and drive them off our lands." Most of the older men nodded their affirmatives, but a couple of the younger lads looked eager for some bloodshed. Discounting them and hoping nobody would do anything stupid. Aethor took his horn from his belt and blew a deep resounding note. Yelling at the top of his lungs he kicked his horse into a gallop straight at the fire.

The site that greeted him in the Dunland camp was one of horror. Women, most as naked as the day they were born were spread about, being used and abused by the Dunlanders,as well as several of the runty orcs. Not like the ones that had taken his family from him, but orcs all the same. With a cry of rage, ignoring his own words of caution, Aethor swung with his blade at the head of a Dunlander who was crouched over a woman who was black with mud. The man's head came away in a spray of blood. The other men in his small group came thundering into the camp. The flickering flame glinted from their swords and the sweat on their brows. Yelling and cursing, his men hacked and slashed wildly at the slavers.

Even in the midst of the battle, Aethor kept bellowing "mind the women you dogs."Against the group of men and boys who had barely held a sword before today the slavers might have been willing to pitch themselves. But they could not stand against Aethor. His blows were not hacks and slashes, they were jabs and feints. Any man or orc who faced him fell. With murder in his eyes, he advanced. Ignoring the screams of pain and cries for mercy he left a trail of the dead and dying in his wake. The slavers recognized that in him they did not face a farmer, but a rider of Rohan. It was over bare minutes after it had begun. The slavers fled, pursued by several of the younger lads including Eodrag. Aethor raised his head and bellowed "Get back here you little fucking maggots." Hearing the warriors voice seemed to snap the lads out of it and they quickly turned their horses around and slunk back to the campsite. Aethor bent over and wiped the blood from his sword on the tunic of one of the wild men. Looking down at the sword, he shook his head, it had belonged in his family for years, and yet here he was. A broken down farmer leading others to battle.

Shaking his head in disgust Aethor sheathed his blade and looked to the edge of camp, where a small huddle of women stood, looking at the sky he noticed how much darker it seemed now. The wind was also picking up and blowing the smoke of the slavers campfires in all directions."Maybe I am just getting too old for this" he muttered under his breath. At this moment in time he just wanted to go home and lay down, but he knew it was going to be a long night, as he attempted to make order of the chaos that the brief skirmish had caused. Aethor began to wearily trudge towards where the women were huddled, he motioned angrily to his men to give them some space and not crowd them. However before he reached the women he heard a quiet sob. Looking to his left he saw Thenas. A lad of fifteen summers who had insisted he was strong enough to join them, crouched over the body of a Dunlander. He was holding his hands over his face, as if to shield his eyes from the empty eyes of the man who lay dead, the Dunlander had a long knife driven into his gut. Aethor crouched down next to the boy and pulled his head into his chest, he felt the sobs wracking the boy's body.

He murmured softly to Thenas "you did good today lad, you held your nerve and you defended your village." Aethor reached to his side where a flask of liquor rested. He had planned on drinking it himself tonight to stop the night terrors that haunted him, but the lad needed it more than him. Motioning with one arm to one of the slightly older lads to come over, Aethor told him in a quiet but firm voice "you make sure he drinks enough of that to straighten his head. And I swear to Beru, if I hear the piss getting taken I will take it out of your hide. Do you understand boy?" Aethor glared hard at the older lad until he nodded. Getting up and leaving Thenas sobbing into the lad's shoulder, occasionally taking a swig from the flask. Aethor made his way finally to the group of women. There were five women left of the seven who had got taken from the neighboring village, Aethor didn't need to ask what had happened to the other two, he knew the things the wild men did to their Rohan captives. The hatred between the two people's ran deep.

Aethor stopped a short distance from where the women they had rescued stood, he bowed his head respectfully to the matriarch of the group, an older woman. Still pretty but also world weary. "Ma'am, I hope you will allow my men to escort you back to your homes, might I enquire what village you were taken from?"

The older woman looked him up and down, apparently deciding he could be trusted, she gestured with him to walk with her. In a quiet voice, so none of the other men could hear the woman said "My name is Eofrol, m'lord. I would appreciate the escort for myself and the others back to our village," she quickly and briefly outlined where the village was located in relation to his village. Eofrol paused as if thinking, and proceeded to say "tell me m'lord, are you a good man?"

Slightly startled by the question, Aethor stared at her for a few moments. He quickly cleared his throat "I like to believe so ma'am." Eofrol looked at him. This tall handsome rider, he could not be more than thirty summers old. Yet he had lines of tragedy etched on his face, but he appeared to be kind, if what she saw of him and the boy was any indication.

Eofrol then asked "are you married m'lord?" Aethor was slightly shocked by the straightforwardness of the question. He shook his head to indicate no. Eofrol kept looking at him, "do you enjoy the company of others on a regular occasion?" Once again Aethor shook his head no. A small smile spread across Eofrol's face.

"M'lord, I ask you this in the strictest confidence, after everybody has gone, please return to the sight of the battle, and..think before you act. Just..think, please". Aethor looked into the woman's eyes and saw pleading and hopefulness.

"I will stay behind" he said gently. Tears flooded the woman's face and she said as formally as she could manage "thank you m'lord." Turning she walked away back to the group of other women. Aethor did not know what to make of this request, but if it brought the woman some peace he would follow through with his promise.

Aethor was quick in assigning the young idiots who had chased after the slavers to dig a great pit to hold the bodies of the slavers. He also assigned two of the older men to fetch a cart to transport the bodies of the dead women home. He had breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that there were no fatalities among the men he had led. He did not think he could continue to live if he had the shame of needless death hovering over him as well.

His eyes skimmed across all the activity that was taking place, he did notice Eofrol had walked over to a the remains of an old hut and was leaning against the frame, appearing to look in. Aethor saw her turn and walk calmly towards the rest of the group, who were all mounting up with various riders for their journey back to the village where they were snatched from. Aethor waited, as the woman had asked him to. He had dismounted from his horse and was sitting looking without seeing, into the one fire that was still alight, smoking his pipe. His wife and children were on his mind. His wife had always said that he was a good man. And smart enough to look before acting.

It was not long before he heard the footsteps. They were approaching from the direction of the old hut. Reaching to his waist, he drew his sword and laid it across his lap. Then in a calm gentle voice he called out "If you would not mind, could you approach from where I can see you"? Aethor listened as the footsteps stopped. They started again soon after, however they were taking a route that would lead the maker of the noises into his front arc.

An orc was not what Aethor was expecting. Startled by the realisation that an orc stood merely feet away from him, he stood and held his sword in guard position, ready for the charge he was sure would be coming. However surprisingly the orc did not charge, in a gravelly voice the orc said "Huh, knew it was too good to be true, a man who might help me" the orc looked down at its knees and then stood and looked Aethor in the eye "might as well end it now then, one clean cut and its all over, no more pain, no more persecution" Aethor was shocked. He had never heard an orc speak before, let alone so eloquently.

In a curious voice Aethor asked "what do you mean, 'too good to be true'"?

The orc stared at him, "that woman, Eofrol, said she had found a man who might help me, I just want a place to stay for a while. I can earn my keep and I just want to grow up, then I can leave and never come back".

Aethor looked the orc up and down. And then it hit him. It was a she.

The she-orc was around 5,6, not too much shorter than Aethor himself, her breasts were noticeable but not huge, her legs were well muscled and gleamed in the firelight, and her face. Her face reminded him of his wife, with a blunter flatter nose, and a heavier brow, but certainly feminine. "Eofrol said you might take me in, she said you were a good man who would think before he ran me through. I see she was wrong now". The she-orc dropped to her knees. "just end me".

Aethor looked at where the orc was kneeling. Taking a decision he sheathed his sword at his side and sat down outside the arm reach of the she-orc. "do you have an name, orc"? The she-orc looked at him, with eyes that were misted over.

"My name is Urzoth, and I ain't no _snaga_, I'm an Uruk. I was sold by my clan to slavers to get them through the winter. All I wants a place to rest until its gets warmer" Urzoth looked up at Aethor, "please, I can work". Aethor looked at Urzoth. Then the obvious question sprung to mind.

"Why didn't you go with Eofrol, she seemed sympathetic to your cause"?

Urzoth shrugged and grumbled "Some kind of fancy fuckin orc hunter lives in those parts, she reckoned I might be safer out of the way". Aethor looked at her, the Uruk appeared to be telling the truth, her face was filled with emotion that she did not appear to be able to hide.

"Why should I trust you orc, your people have caused mine naught but harm and death, my own family.." Aethor turned away and rubbed his hand across his eyes, quickly wiping away the beginning of tears.

Looking down at the ground, Urzoth said "I aint trying to excuse what the others o my kind did, not in the slightest, but you should probably know, it was the wizard". Aethor whipped around and glared at the she-orc. "What has that cursed man got to do with the suffering your kind has caused my people."

Urzoth bristled, "if you must know, the things my kind did have no reflection on what I did, all I ever did was be born and on the day your lot sent a fucking forest after us, I was due my first session with some fuckin Uruk warrior. I aint never been on a raid, I had never seen the sun before then. All I could do was get away, then as soon as I am out, some other big bastard wanted to sell me off to some fuckin dunlander". Urzoth panted after her outburst. "I just want a safe place to rest up, and I thought you might at least offer me a place in your barn or some shit. But I should have guessed men were as bad as they always seemed." The she-orc stood to her full height, and then turned away and began to walk towards the hills.

Aethor called after her "Urzoth, did you truly never hurt any of my people?" The she orc stopped and turned to face him.

"Nah, I never did"

Nodding Aethor said "I have some things that need doing on the farm, provided you are willing to work, I suppose I could supply food and board"

Aethor pushed himself up from the ground "come on then Urzoth, we have a long way to go".

**AN: hope you enjoyed it, the next chapter should be up in the next day or so**


	2. Discussion with an orc

**AN: Thank you once again to any who review and point out my mistakes. I understand that the timelines may not match up precisely but I did the best I could.**

**AN: Just some minor editing so far, planning to get it edited more soon**

**An: Ok, three edits in and I hope the chapter is better than what it was.**

Arriving back at his farm took far less time than Aethor had expected. He had ridden his horse at an even canter, and Urzoth had run the entire way alongside his horse. The ride was quiet for the most part as although Urzoth had attempted to ask some questions, such as how the animals were looked after and what kind of work would be expected of her. Aethor had answered with non-committal grunts. They had ridden and run along the dirt track that led to Aethor's farm, through the deepening night, the air got colder and on the plains surrounding his farm the wind cut deeply. Aethor was already beginning to regret bringing the female Uruk-hai back to his home. He was certain that only trouble with the other villagers would come of it. And whilst he had good relations with most, he was sure sheltering an uruk-hai would turn some, if not most against him.

Riding into the empty farmyard, Aethor pulled the reins of his mount to slow the great stallion, and gently slowed the horse to a walking speed to avoid any muscle cramp. Dismounting Aethor looked at the Uruk who had followed him without complaint. "I need to brush him down and get him settled, if you would, please go in and get the fire lit." Without waiting for an answer Aethor guided the stallion into the darkness of the barn. The smell of straw and animals hit him as soon as he stepped through the low doorway. Leading the horse to his stall Aethor checked there was enough straw and opats, and that the water bucket was full. Taking the saddle off was no great challenge even in the dark.

Stacking it in the corner of the barn, he grabbed his saddlebags and sword, and walked towards the farmhouse. Pausing as he was about to enter his home and talk with the orc, Aethor looked at the full moon that was beginning to rise and bathe the world in soft light. "Forgive me, my love." Opening the latch on the front day Aethor stepped through into his modest kitchen. He remembered everything was just how he left it that afternoon, the scuffed round wooden table with four chairs, all hand built by himself. The small fireplace in the corner with a iron cauldron that hung above it. However now he had an Uruk-hai sitting at the table. Walking calmly into the room, determined not to show how uncomfortable she made him, Aethor pulled out a chair and slumped into it.

Leaning forward he looked at Urzoth. He quickly noticed that her eyes were fixed on something else. Tracing where her eyes were pointing he saw the small portrait of himself and his wife on their wedding day. He had paid a small fortune for a picture of them done by a Gondorian artist. Urzoth's eyes were moving over the entirety of the picture.

"Is this, you and your wife?" Aethor nodded and stood to retrieve the picture, he held it out for the Uruk-hai to take.

"That is a picture of I and Elfilde on our wedding day, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Isengard had been broken and the Uruk-hai defeated." sighing, he slumped down in his chair again. "Then Gondor called and we rode to war again, so many did not return from Pellanor fields and the Black gate, this country is empty of men with experience at fighting, it leaves us easy prey for slavers and raiders."

Taking the portrait of himself and his wife back from the Uruk-hai's hands, Aethor placed the portrait back on the mantelpiece above the fire. Turning back he sat down on his chair and gazed unblinkingly at the orcess. "So, Urzoth, tell me about yourself".

The Uruk-hai looked startled, she swallowed and said in a low voice "well as you already know my name is Urzoth, I'm around fifteen summers old, well thats what a lad I was friendly with told me. I am an Uruk-hai and I was bred for the sole purpose of breeding more fighting Uruk-hai for the masters army. I was in the breeding pits, about to be fucked by one of the soldiers who was injured at some battle by some river or other."

Holding up his hand Aethor questioned "I assume you mean the battle of the river Isen?"

The young Uruk shrugged, "Could be, I never really got any details bout the battle, I just know alot of blokes got hurt and killed. Anyways, then there was shouting, and the pitmaster started screaming something about fuckin trees coming out of the forest and attacking us. So the lad who was to fuck me, got a bit nervous and took off. I managed to get out of my restraints and took off after the bastard." Urzoth paused here and closing her eyes, took a few deep breaths.

"Well it was then that them trees broke the dam open and water started coming down everywhere, twas horrible, orcs by the hundred being smashed by the flood water, and those at the bottom were drowning."

Once again Urzoth paused here and shuddered as the memories resurfaced. "Well I managed to get into one of the tunnels that a bunch of snaga went down, and being the sneaky bastards they were I figured they knew a decent way out. So I follows them, and I see this huge Uruk just walk up and smash this wooden door down, then we are all running and there is screaming and howling, and them trees are trying to collapse the tunnels above us."

Aethor saw Urzoth's eyes cloud over with anger "then soon as I am out of the tunnels, one of them snaga jumps me with a wooden branch, and being shaken and half drowned as I was, I got pretty beaten down, so they ties me up and drags me off. I _entertained_ them for about two or three months, then they traded me to the bunch of slavers you found me with for enough dried meat to last the winter.

Aethor raised a questioning eyebrow "you _entertained_ them, how so?"

Urzoth stiffened then looked down and stared blankly at the table "Aint nothing you need to know about, anyways them slavers said a young breeding Uruk was worth a lot to the eye, but then your lot killed him. And suddenly I ain't so valuable anymore, so I start taking the brunt of the slavers tempers. And well, seeing them girls get taken from that village of yours, I figured I got a tough enough hide to take the punishment, so I starts acting up to keep the focus on me. I reckon thats the only reason Eofrol bothered with me."

Aethor sat, looking stunned at the Uruk's admission. In a shaky voice he said "why though, why would you want to help people you don't know? You are an Orc, you are not meant to do that kind of thing."

Urzoth raised an eyebrow when he said that "you men really think you have it all don't you, you think you're the only people in the world who can show compassion. I admit it was damn strange, but so what, are you complaining? would you rather I sat back and watched those girls get violated? I for one know what its like to be used with no thought for your well being, and I ain't going to let it happen to another if I can help it."

Urzoth was glaring murderously at him. Aethor decided he had a lot of thinking to do tonight. Standing he said "Ok, I think its time we both went to bed, I will show you to your room." He beckoned the Uruk female to follow him. Walking through the darkened main room, Aethor opened the door to the bedroom he used to share with his wife. "You can stay here whilst you are a guest in my home." Moving to one side he allowed the Uruk to enter. Bidding her goodnight, he stayed just long enough for her to slam the door and to hear rustling sounds and the heavy thunk as a large body fell onto the well stuffed mattress.

Aethor grimaced slightly. Urzoth's words had given him lots to think about. Walking back through the darkened main room, he sat at the kitchen table and rested his head in his hands. Staring deep into the flames as he contemplated what must be done the next day.

The next day dawned with a strong sun, that had managed to go straight through the curtains at the kitchen window and piece Aethor's eyes. Startled awake by the sound of his stallions calls for food, Aethor stood up drearily from the kitchen table. He had done an awful lot of thinking the night before, and yet still he did not know what to think of Urzoth, in some ways she was as much as or more, a victim of the war, and yet..she was an Uruk-hai. One of the same breed who had murdered his family. He figured as he got to know her, he would figure out what to think of her. Stomping across the main sitting room of his home he banged his fist on the door once and then burst in...to be greeted by the sight of Urzoth sitting up in the bed, curled up against the wall and making whimpering noises.

Aethor was stunned. The Uruk had seemed so strong and sure of herslef the night before, but now she was curled up whimpering, at that moment Urzoth's eyes seemed to re-focus and she stopped whimpering and began to screech "what the hell are you doing just barging in here like that, get out!". Aethor quickly backed out the room keeping his eyes averted from the angry Orcess.

Backing away from the door, Aethor turned and walked back to the kitchen, where he rested his head in one hand and thought 'Is this..fear, a effect of being _entertainment_ for those orcs and slavers'. Hearing the sounds of footsteps coming from behind him, Aethor turned to see Urzoth stood wrapped in her tunic from the day before, he could see she was trying to avoid eye contact and stood awkwardly in the doorway.

Aethor came to the conclusion that she was not going to break the silence and said "Urzoth, I would like to apologize for frightening you just now, I was not thinking.."

Urzoth cut him off "Nar, wasn't your fault, how were you to know, its stupid really..whatever, Just tell me what needs to be done this morning." The young Uruk still did not look up at him, Aethor sighed and gestured to the bucket in the corner of the room.

"If you could fill the bucket with water from the well, I would be very appreciative." The uruk nodded and still without looking him in the eye picked up the bucket and set off.

Aethor pocked him head out the door "the well is on the other side" just hearing the snarl from the Uruk, and chuckling to himself Aethor set about his chores for the morning.

**AN: hope you enjoyed it, Next chapter should be up in the next couple of days**


	3. Of mud and feet

**AN: Yup, here is the third chapter, not sure if I have the pacing right, but I am trying my best.**

Still chuckling at the growl of indignation that had come from Urzoth's mouth, Aethor set about making a light meal to break his and his guests fast. After living alone for some time, Aethor had started to experiment with cooking and found he had quite a knack for it. Most of the dishes he prepared were simple and bland, but they kept his strength up and did not cause the farmstead to burn down from an out of control fire. As he poured oats into two wooden bowls his eyes wandered along the dried herbs and other ingredients his wife used to use to make glorious stews with, Often he had sat at the table sharpening his sword or carving whilst she had cooked, when she was pregnant with their children she often sat at the table and yelled instructions at him, with an increasingly foul mouth as his clumsy efforts to cook messed up her careful arrangements of ingredients. Still smiling, Aethor turned to attend to the fire that had burned low over the course of the night. Noting that the stocks of wood were going down at quite a rapid rate, since he had started to light the fire in the main room as well to warm the entire house, as opposed to just the kitchen where he normally slept, so as to keep his guest comfortable.

Hearing a rattling noise Aethor turned to the door and saw the young Uruk struggling with a large overfull bucket, sloshing water everywhere, proving very awkward to get through the narrow kitchen door. Swiftly taking the bucket from her hands he laid it next to the fire to heat, ready to make porridge. Urzoth crossed her arms and said "I could have done that myself you know, don't need no man to help me."

Aethor raised his hands as if to pacify his guest "Far be it for me to lead you to believe I do not think you are not strong enough, I just prefer to keep the water _in_ the bucket." Urzoth looked behind her at the trail of water that was splashed across the yard, and in the entrance of the room.

Huffing again she asked "well what do you want me to do today then?"

Aethor stroked his chin thoughtfully "well do you have any particular skills, such as washing, sowing?" Urzoth looked at him coolly.

With a growl emanating from her chest she said "I ain't one of your helpless women..what's your name anyway, I told you mine, but you never said yours."

Aethor was surprised he had forgotten such a common courtesy, his only excuse was that she was an uncommon guest, he mentally slapped himself, what would his wife say if she saw him treating any guest like he had "my humblest apologies Urzoth, may I present myself as Aethor, owner of this humble farm and former rider of the mark." As he said this he made a small bow in the direction of the orcess.

Raising her hand to stifle a sudden urge to giggle at the gentlemanly behaviour, Urzoth said "I don't sow. I don't wash clothes, that was for them other _snaga_ to do. I was trained in the kitchens until I turned of breedable age, and I can do manual labor with the best of them." Aethor looked her muscled frame up and down.

"Well I do have a ditch that needs cleaning out, it should take you most of the afternoon, and it would save me a job, there is a shovel in the stable. The ditch I need cleaning out extends along the bottom of the pasture over there." As he talked Aethor went to the window and ensuring the young Uruk was looking, he pointed to where it was located. Urzoth walked to the window and noted where the ditch was.

"Well I suppose I better get on with it then, hadn't I" Urzoth turned away from Aethor and strode out into the farmyard.

…

"Damit, what the hell is this stuff" Urzoth thought as she wrestled yet another shovelful of the dark squelchy mess out of the flooded ditch and piled it on the other side. She had been working since that morning and her back ached from the constant strain of heaving the wet sludge from the bottom. Urzoth didn't mind though. In fact she was glad she was out here alone, it gave her time to think about Aethor.

Poking her head up and looking around to make sure no one would hear her she began to speak to herself in her head to try to get her thoughts more clear.

_"He has been kind to you"_

_"He is a man, the same race that abused you for many weeks"_

_"Yes, but that wasn't him, the ones who did that were Dundlings amd they are all dead now,he has taken you in and hasn't moved to touch you"_

_"But how long until he does, he has been alone for a long time"_

_"he is not the kind of man to take advantage"_

_"I suppose you're right, you're an orc, he would be too disgusted to touch you"_

_"You don't know that, a firm young body might be just what he needs"_

_"He is a man, his kind have done naught but slaughter your race, they even sent the trees of Fangorn after you"_

_"It was our master who provoked the trees of Fangorn"_

_"And guess what, he was also of the race of men"_

_"But he has been so kind, he even did that stupid little bow earlier"_

Stabbing the blade of the shoves down into the muck at the bottom of the ditch, Urzoth accidentally caught her foot in the path of the blade and howled with pain. Throwing the shovel out of the ditch,and hoisting herself on to the edge of the ditch after it, she tried to wipe the mud away from the cut on her foot. Urzoth saw that there was a lot of blood, she knew she could not deal with this injury here, she had to get back to the farmhouse. She hoped Aethor at least knew enough to stop the bleeding. Urzoth quickly ripped a large strip of material from her tunic, no longer caring about the lack of decency it provided, and roughly bound it around her foot to try to stem the bleeding.

Staggering, and limping along, growing fainter as the blood loss increased, and the rag around her foot became saturated with her blood. Urzoth managed to struggle into the farmyard. She stopped dead when she saw Aethor standing in the yard in just his leggings, with sweat gleaming on the firm muscles of his back and an enormous axe in hand, splitting logs with ease. Letting out a low moan, Urzoth let herself fall into the darkness.

…..

Bringing his axe hard down on a small log and hearing the satisfying crack as it split straight and even, was a good sound Aethor decided. In the seconds between splitting the last log and picking up a new one, Aethor heard a low moan coming from behind him. Turning he saw Urzoth. She was covered in stinking black mud from her feet to her waist, her tunic was ripped and completely indecent for anyone to where. But the main thing that caught Aethor's attention was the long stream of blood that was trailing behind Urzoth, and was even now pooling around her feet as he stood there. Suddenly she pitched forward and letting the axe drop with a resounding clang, Aethor just managed to catch her before she hit the floor. Uncaring of the mud that was being transferred between Urzoth and himself, Aethor picked Urzoth up and carried her through the house to the room she stayed in the night before. Carefully, trying not to jar her, Aethor lay her on the bed and started fussing around her foot. Unwrapping the rag, Aethor could see that the wound was a deep cut going into the foot just below where it joined to the ankle, nothing that would stop her walking, but in a place that would mean it would take a long time to heal. Ensuring that Urzoths head was laying in a comfortable place on the pillow and that she was not going to try getting up, Aethor, hurried out of the room to the kitchen. Taking the bucket of water Urzoth had fetched that morning as well as several rags, Aethor hurried back through to the bedroom to find Urzoth had regained some small form of awareness.

"What the hell happened?" she asked in a subdued voice.

Placing the bucket at the foot of the bed and dipping one of the rags in, Aethor said "seems you somehow cut your foot open, it looks like mud got into it, you collapsed just after you made it to the farmyard, this may sting a bit" Aethor braced himself for the flailing that had always occurred whenever he had done this with his children when they cut themselves and their mother had not been there to tend them. Taking the rag out of the hot water and squeezing most of the excess water off Aethor began to bathe the mud away from the site of the wound. The flailing he expected never came, he looked up and caught Urzoth's eyes.

"Why you holding my leg so tight Aethor" Urzoth growled. Letting his grip loosen Aethor frowned.

"Whenever I bathed my children's cuts they would scream and flail like they were being tortured" Aethor smiled sadly as he said this.

Urzoth matched his smile with one of her own "come on, its not that bad" her smile faded to a bleak somber expression "it doesn't sting, not like what was done to me in Isenguard, or with those slavers.." Urzoth's smile had turned into a frown. "you can wrap it back up now, I think its as clean as its going to get, and as relaxed.."

Aethor had unconsciously set the rag aside after cleaning the mud off the cut and had just been massaging Urzoth's foot whilst they had spoken. Quickly grabbing another clean rag Aethor wrapped Urzoth's foot up as neatly and tightly as he could, with his hands starting to shake slightly as they did. "Um..yes, I will go get you...um" Aethor scurried out the room to fetch something, something that required him to be out the room as fast as possible. Moving into the kitchen Aethor slammed his hands down onto the table and repeated several times in his own head "she is an orc."

…..

Having Aethor massage her foot had been really relaxing Urzoth decided, maybe if he wanted to , she could tell him her foot ached and he would do it again the next day. Her brow furrowed as common sense reminded her that he was only allowing her to be here grudgingly. She was hungry, but was most certainly not in the right state of mind to see Aethor again this evening. Shuffling on her butt to the end of the bed she kicked the door closed with her good foot.

…

Aethor had fixed a small meal of smoked pork for himself and Urzoth, not knowing how hungry the Uruk might be after a day digging, he had loaded her plate up with lots of pork. Reaching the door to her room, he found it closed. Knocking yielded only a sullen shout of "I'm not hungry."

Bewildered Aethor said through the door "ok, I am putting it out here if you want it for later though." Setting down the plate on the floor, Aethor moved back to the kitchen and idly picked at his own food, not really eating much.

…

That night, Urzoth could not sleep, she was tossing and turning, trying to get the memory of Aethor's rough but gentle hands on her foot, and the mental image of his muscular body chopping wood out of her head.

….

Laying on his cloak in front of the fire Aethor lay still, the image of Urzoth standing, barely clothed was seared into his mental eye. He had been too worried about the wound in her foot to appreciate her at the time. But he would not deny, if she was not an orc she would most certainly be of interest to him.

However a small voice at the back of his mind just kept on repeating

'_why should it matter_'.

**AN: OOOO I wonder what going to happen next? I am away for a few days my beloved readers :) but I can write whilst I am away, so expect a chapter on my return**


	4. Moments

**AN: Ok, this is a number of small scenes which just show some bonding time. They come in between chapter 3 and chapter 4, and mostly show the characters getting to know each other.**

Aethor and Urzoth were sitting at the kitchen table breaking their evening fast, when Urzoth suddenly said "Your cooking tastes like a rat's arse."

Aethor looked up from the pork he was pushing around the plate "I would not says its that bad, its just, underseasoned" he grinned half heartedly.

"Yeah, underseasoned like a rat's arse" Pushing her plate away, Urzoth rested her feet on his table and waggled her toes, before saying "even my feet would taste better than this crud."

Aethor exploded "well if you don't like my cooking don't eat it, I do my best with what I know"

Urzoth also stood and glowered at Aethor "If you want my help boy just ask, I know my way around the kitchen as well as any tark woman."

Rising to his feet to match Urzoth for height, Aethor bellowed, "fine, cook us a lovely tasty meal, as long as it doesn't kill me I will eat it." slumping in his chair the energy seemed to drain from the older man.

Urzoth wanted to smile triumphantly, but the look on Aethor's face stopped her. She extended her hand to pull Aethor up. "If my mam taught me to cook something edible, I am sure I can teach you."

Aethor saw the extended hand, he was tempted to ignore it, but he knew that he did need to start learning how to cook something other than porridge and overcooked pork. Taking her hand he rose heavily to his feet. Urzoth still looked faintly grumpy, but her forehead was no longer crinkled with anger.

Turning around she stepped up to the work surface and said over her shoulder, "fetch me another piece of pork and a sharp knife." Aethor dutifully fetched the items she had demanded. Taking the items from his hands, he stood entranced as Urzoth's shoulders relaxed and her face took on a dreamy expression. Even though she appeared content he was sent rushing back and forth fetching this and that, and always returning to stir the contents of the pot over the fire.

The entire time he listened to Urzoth as she explained what she was doing and why she was doing it. Soon enough his mouth was watering at the smells coming from the pot. Herbs were diced and thrown in the pot, the fire had to be at this exact tempreture for the perfect length of time. Aethor was entranced watching Urzoth work. She had seemed awkward and out of place since he had bough her to his home, but here in the kitchen, when she knew what was going on and what she could do, she was as regal as a queen.

…..

Urzoth woke to the sounds of screams. Disorientated in the darkness of the room, she crashed blindly out of the bed and fell to the floor. Preparing to fight to the death to stop from being taken against her will by whatever creature caused the screams, she hurried out of her room, towards the kitchen where the sounds of screams were coming from. She had paused only to throw on her loincloth. Reaching the doorway to the kitchen, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, no broken down doors or wild men come to plunder and rape. Hearing a whimpering, she looked down and her eyes were drawn to Aethor's spot in front of the fire and saw Aethor.

His lips were moving as if talking to someone, begging someone, his hands shot out intermittently and grasped at nothing, he seemed to be stroking some invisible round object in the air. Then his legs began to jerk. And he let out another scream. This was no manly bellow, yet nor was it a simpering ladies shriek. The sound he made shook Urzoth right to the core, it was a sound of grief so great, that lesser men would have broken under it. Urzoth didn't know what to do. So in the end she did the only thing she could do. Laying down next to him by the fire she pulled him into her, with her breasts pressed against his back and their legs entangled. Urzoth began to gently sing in a low voice, as song she heard some of the Rohirrim women sing on the first night they were taken as slaves.

The words seemed to calm Aethor, his breathing steadied and his legs stopped jerking. Urzoth allowed herself drift into a half sleep. She was consious enough to know when it was time to return to her own bed so Aethor would not suspect.

….

Burning, the barn was burning, Aethor rushed blindly through the smoke and ignoring the panicked cries of other villagers, he rushed into the house, the door was was laying splintered in the kitchen, several chairs were smashed. Blood was everywhere. Stepping through the wreckage of his home his son was the first thing he saw. Split from neck to groin and left laying in a tangle of his own organs, his naming day knife clutched in his hands. Trying to block the sight from his eyes Aethor stepped over the small body.

The next person he was was his wife. Her injuries were severe and her anguish clear even in death. Near wretching, the last body to be found was that of his daughter. On finding her body Aethor fell to his knee, such a howl of anguish rose from his throat that all the villagers outside, many who were still trying to put the fire out, and some who whispered of the strange fortune that Aethor had been out of the house at the perfect moment to avoid the death of his family, stopped silent.

Any thought from some of the ladies of the village that he might have had a hand in his family's deaths, were put to rest by that howl. Aethor knelt, he did not want to leave, he wanted to stay here forever and mourn. But slowly, a gentle voice reached his ears. Singing a song of bravery in the harshest circumstances, a warm wrap went around him, and he felt the nightmare recede.

….

Aethor paused, wiping sweat from his brow, he lowered the sword he was holding. After the old nightmare had revisited some night previous, he decided he needed to exhaust himself to sleep without disturbing Urzoth. Although she had claimed that she had not been disturbed, he could tell she lied.

As well as the dark bags under her eyes, her broad open face made it impossible for her to conceal that she had heard his yells in the dark of the night. After finishing his tasks for the day, Aethor had left Urzoth to cook another wonderful stew whilst he took his sword outside to run through the drills he had learnt from a soldier of Gondor, whilst he had recuperated after being wounded at the black gate. Swinging and lunging, feinting and parrying, Aethor fought and slew a battalion of imaginary enemies. His chest was heaving and sweat beaded his brow.

As he stood, with lungs heaving, he heard a slow clap from the direction of the house. Urzoth was standing watching him. Feeling slightly foolish, Aethor sheathed his blade and bowed low in her direction. Returning to a standing position, Aethor could see that Urzoth's hand was covering her mouth, and was hiding a smile and a few giggles.

Her demeanor dropped quickly, and striding to the larger wood basket outside, she picked two long staves of wood, each about the length of a sword and both as thick as the other. Turning she faced him and throwing him one stave, riased an eyebrow.

Aethor shook his head and letting the staff fall to his side he turned away from her and said "I would not wish to fight a woman Urzoth, even an orc one. I do not wish to hurt you." From nowhere the thick piece of wood she carried swung and smashed into the side of his head, staggered and groping blindly Aethor just about managed to clumsily parry the other blow that was aimed for his kidneys.

"What the hell are you doing, Urzoth!"

Urzoth's eyebrow merely rose again and she returned to a fighting stance. Aethor rubbed his aching head and with a sigh, decided that he would try not to hurt her too badly. Aethor grippe the shaft and made a short jab at the hand holding her stave. He had hoped to disarm her and end the fight quickly so there would be less possibility of really hurting her. In a flash Urzoth had parried his stave, and reaching forward from where he had lunged too far forward, grabbed hte front of his tunic. Her hands gripped the tunic and yanked him forward, he fell and ended up a sprawling pile in the dirt.

Aethor was beginning to get angry now. Whilst he did not want to injure her too severly, he had a feeling until he really committed to this fight he would just be humiliated again and again. Rising to his feet and holding his stave firmly in hand, Aethor launched into a flurry of blows, trying not to give Urzoth a chance to strike back. Unfortunately. He had not counted on fighting Urzoth. Locking his stave against hers and happily holding him at bay for the few seconds she needed, her other hand reached forward and grasped the front of his tunic, but this time instead of pulling him forward, he stepped forward and hooked one leg behind his ankle, and pushed.

Aethor collapsed backwards and lay in the dirt looking stunned. This orc knew how to fight dirty. Before he knew what was happening, Urzoth had dropped her stick and was hollering "and who put the 'great warrior' on the ground twice, who, oh yeah, me!" Urzoth ran a brief celebratory circle around the outskirts of the yard, watched dourfully by Aethor's horse. Aethor sat up, he had the perfect revenge in mind. Standing he took off at a dead sprint and tackled her into a large pile of hay that was sat under a cover just next to the barn. Urzoth immediately started struggling, and Aethor thinking it was still a bit of fun, restrained her quickly. It was only after he had restrained her that he noticed she was nearly hyperventilating and her eyes were wide, round, _panicked_.

Aethor suddenly realised what this must have felt like to herand flung himself off her. Standing he offered his hand and said in a shaky voice "Urzoth, I am so sorry, I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean to panic you.."

Aethor could barely stand to look at Urzoth, she was curled up on the pile of hay shaking, her amrs wrapped tightly around her body as if to protect herself from him. Aethor heedless of the faint protests gently picked her up and putting her over his shoulder, carried her through to the bedroom she used. Once there, he lay her down on the bed and in the most soothing voice he could muster said "I am truly sorry to have reminded you of those times Urzoth. Please, forgive me." Saying nothing, Urzoth turned to face the wall and looked away from him. Siging Aethor got up and left. He hoped she would be ready to accept his apology come morning.

…..

Screams echoed in the night. Aethor sat up from his place by the fire and bolted to Urzoth's room. He paused for a moment at that. He now considered that room Urzoth's, it was no longer just a room in the house. Pushing thoughts of that away, Aethor slammed into the door to the room and fumbling managed to lift the latch.

On entering the room, Aethor saw it was a mess, Urzoth was crouched in the corner of the room, the white sheet from the bed the only thing to protect her modesty apart from her loincloth. Urzoth was wide eyed, but not aware of what she was seeing, she was growling and screaming, he clawed hands swiping at invisible foes. Aethor was shocked to see the normally calm and collected orcess so frightened and out of sorts.

Taking a deep breath, Aethor crossed the room. As he approached, Urzoth curled in on herself to make herself as small as possible. Taking her wrists in a firm but gentle grip, Aethor managed to maneuver her back to the bed. Sitting her down, Aethor sat rubbing her smooth back and trying to console her with his presence alone.

Awareness seemed slow to return, however when it did, Urzoth just sat there, she was now aware of Aethor in the room with her. Aethor sighed, he wished he still had his wife to talk to about to to deal with problems such as this, but he was clueless. Aethor had meant to go but when he moved to leave, Urzoth's eyes flashed and she held onto his arm saying "Please, please don't leave me alone tonight, if you do the nightmares will come back." Aethor had promised he would not leave, he had meant to sleep on the floor and leave the bed to Urzoth, shakily asked him to lay in the bed with her. Whilst nervous about this request, Aethor's aching back and neck asserted themselves. Laying down on the bed, he had expected Urzoth to mearly lay down next to him. But instead she lay her head down on his chest, over where his heart thumped and closed her eyes.

Both man and Uruk-hai slept well that night.

**AN: See you all in a few days**


	5. A new family

**AN: Just as a warning, it does get a little bit dark at some points in this chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

Aethor woke the next morning to a cracking sound, as a small pocket of air was found in one of the logs, that were burning on the fire, cursing he rose to his feet and stretched to try to get the kinks out of his neck and back. "I have got to get around to getting a new bed" he muttered to himself. Deciding that after her injury of a few days ago he should check on Urzoth, and remembering the events of the very same morning of the one where she was injured, was very careful. Aethor crossed the main room and smiled at the scent of the young orc.

Aethor rapped lightly on the door and said "Just thought I would wake you up to say I am making breakfast, are you hungry?". He heard a resounding thump from the other side of the door, that sounded like a boot being thrown.

A rough grumbling voice sounded from the room "What kind of fool question is that, of course I'm hungry, I will be out in a bit, just need to re-wrap my foot. Smiling at how Urzoth sounded like his wife in the morning when it was her moontime and deciding this morning was not a time to test the young orcess's patience.

Aethor walked back through the kitchen. "I am just going to get some water for breakfast." He picked up the mostly empty bucket from the day before, and tipping the contents out into the dirt of the yard, noting the heavy bank of clouds coming in, he had a feeling it was going to get very foggy, very soon. He set a hurried pace off across the yard to drag water up from the well.

….

Urzoth frowned at the tunic she was holding in her clawed hands. After the weeks of abuse she had suffered, and then tearing a large strip off of it a few days past, in order to bind her foot, he hasty patchwork was coming apart. She looked around the room that Aethor had let her stay in. Drawing in a heavy sniff, she smelled, her own musk, and the more recent comings and goings of Aethor, as well as the salted pork she had been eating the past few nights. But underneath that, there was several more scents, scents that were worn into the very fabric of the room. There was the smell of Aethor, but..different. And there was the smell of another, another female. And quite suddenly it hit her. She had been allowed to sleep in the room that Aethor had shared with his wife, before she had died.

Quickly coming to terms with this realisation, Urzoth hoped that Aethor's wife had left some items of cloth and sowing equipment in the room. She had lied to Aethor when she had said she did not sow. She had been shown how and had to sow many tunics for the Uruk soldiers, when they had been massed to invade Helms deep.

Throwing open cabinet after cabinet, and all the many draws in the room, she still found nothing, there was a cabinet filled with many plainly cut but nice looking dresses, that must have belonged to Aethor's wife. Despite the length of time since they were used, they all still appeared to be in good condition. She had started to lightly stroke a very nice dark green dress, when she heard the door open. Looking around in a panic, and then realising that she was still clothed in just her loincloth. Grasping the sheet from the bed she yanked it in front of her body.

…..

Aethor had opened the door to find Urzoth standing in the middle of his former room, the room was once again a mess. All the drawers were open and the cabinets were flung wide. Aethor raised one eyebrow and said as calmly as he could manage "would you care to explain to me why you have ransacked your room?"

Urzoth appeared to be trying to sink into the floor, "well, I was trying to find something to sow my tunic up with.." Urzoth clutched the sheet across her chest with one arm and with the other she held up her tunic. The tunic was tattered and filthy, with several rents in the front and back.

Aethor looked the tunic up and down and said "I can't see why you would want to repair it, to be honest it's beyond salvageable" Urzoth let the tunic drop onto the bed and huffed

"Well what do you expect me to wear then? Do you want me parading around in my loincloth? Huh!"

Sighing, Aethor turned to the cabinet of his wife's dresses. Walking through the room and trying to ignore the almost fever heat coming from Urzoth, Aethor picked out the dark green dress that Urzoth had been stroking when he came in. "I think this would fit you nicely." Holding the dress up against Urzoth, Aethor smiled at the nice contrast it made with her grey skin and yellow eyes.

…..

Urzoth looked down the length of her body as the green dress was held against it. Tears filled her eyes and she began to sob. "tha..thank you so...much, I have never had any clothes that had not been handed down from several dead bodies before, all I can say is thank you"

…

Aethor was startled when tears had begun to flow down Urzoth's cheeks. But after her pronouncement he smiled happily. "I will leave you to get dressed Urzoth."

Aethor made sure that Urzoth had a good grip on the dress and turning he walked out of the room and slowly shut the door. Feeling a rush of good will flow through him, he realised that even standing in the room with a mostly naked young woman, he had not felt any inclination to try to take things a step further.

…..

Urzoth sank down onto her bed and ran her hand admiringly over the fabric of the dress. It was soft but sturdy, with a plain cut that showed off the wearer's chest, but not inmodestly so. Dropping the tunic to the floor she wiped away the tears that had run down her cheeks, holding the dress up to look at, she figured that the way to get into it was to shimmy in from the bottom.

…

Aethor turned to face the squeal and was nearly knocked to the floor by the orcess barreling into him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest.

Urzoth was just repeating the same words "thank you, thank you, thank you." Aethor placed his hands gently on her shoulders and moved her back so he could look her up and down. She looked beautiful. There was no denying it. The green of the dress contrasted perfectly with her grey skin and yellow eyes.

…

Urzoth looked into the face of the man she considered her rescuer. He had taken her into his home and fed her, he gave her a safe place to sleep and now he had even shared clothing with her. A slow ripple of a feeling she had never felt before flowed from her loins to spread around the entirety of her body. Just as she was about to mention something she saw Aethor's face drop into a neutral expression. He said "now Urzoth...there are some things I need to discuss with you and a proposition I wish to make." Urzoth felt fear slow through her body. Was he going to send her away? Had she taken enough from him? Was she getting too familiar physically?

Aethor guided her to sit down across from him at the table. Looking deep into her eyes without blinking he said "Now Urzoth, you know how I lost my family to Uruk-hai raiders. They were raped and killed…"

Urzoth muttered under her breath, thinking that he was about to send her away anyway "lucky they were"

…

On hearing those words Aethor exploded "what! how are they lucky, they were raped and killed, I lost my entire family that day!"

Urzoth stood and glared at him "they are lucky, because they died! Do you think I wanted to live after what was done to me? I wanted to die so badly, but I was too much of a coward to end my own life. And now even here, I can't end my life still because I grew to care deeply for you!"

Aethor was stunned by the outburst from Urzoth, he found it impossible to say anything, even when Urzoth walked out of the room. He could see she was crossing the yard and was headed for the edge of the forest that bordered on one end of his farmland.

He so desperately wanted to follow her, but he found his legs locked in place as his mind waged a fierce war with itself

"How dare she say that"

"She cares for you"

"She said your family was lucky to die"

"Maybe they were, at least they weren't captured"

"She is an orc, she would probably enjoyed it"

"SHUT UP"

A third voice had entered the conversation within his mind

The third voice continued. "Urzoth just upped and left, you know she is not safe out there, go and get her you piece of shit, form your own opinions later, but for now go and save her!"

….

Urzoth angrily stalked away from the farm. She wiped tears from her eyes and hiked her dress up to stop it dragging in the grass. She had left with no spare clothes or even a walking stick. But she was so angry she had to get away.

On reaching the edge of the forest she broke through the undergrowth and left a wide trail of footprints and broken undergrowth as her fury vented itself on the forest itself. Bursting into a clearing she came to a dead halt when she saw another man in the clearing, he was dressed in tight fitting leathers and a green cloak with a bow slung over one shoulder.

A whistle crack sounded and she fell into the blackness.

…

Aethor was worried, after deciding to put the whole mind war thing to one side for the moment, he had only stopped to grab his sword and a walking stave before rushing outside. Urzoth's trail was easy enough to follow, her new dress had left a wide path of flattened grass and her clawed feet had dug into the ground at several locations.

Striding forward as fast as he dared, Aethor quickly reached the edge of the forest but had still caught no sign of Urzoth. Upon reaching the forest the path Urzoth had made was even clearer, as all he had to do was follow the path of destroyed vegatation. Aethor loosened his sword in his sheath, he could never be too careful with local animals and the potential of wild men and orcs.

Bursting into a clearing, Aethor noticed that the marks of clawed feet had stopped to be replaced by a large patch of flattened grass, almost as if something heavy had dropped onto it. Aethor decided caution was required here. Suddenly the smell of woodsmoke carried to him on the breeze, mixed with the smell of fresh leaf mulch. Casting about he saw the flickering of a fire from some distance away through the gaps in the trees.

Aethor advance cautiously towards the light of the fire. He slowly drew his sword and stepping carefully so as to not cause any noise he approached the edge of the small clearing where the fire burned.

What Aethor saw in the clearing made his face run cold and his heart burn with rage. Urzoth was laying on her side in the middle of the clearing, her hands were bound behind her back and her nose streamed black blood onto the ground. One of her legs was twisted at an unnatural angle, and her dress was torn and bunched around her hips.

The sounds of voices carried to him, and managing to tear his gaze away from where Urzoth lay obviously in pain, Aethor saw two men arguing. The shorter one with black hair was holding his sword at a on guard position pressed lightly against the chest of a huge blond man. The shorter one was saying "..hell do you think you're doing, no prisoner is ever to be treated like that, no matter their race or what others of their kind may have done."

The taller man merely shrugged "I though to pay their kind back for what was done to many of the women of Rohan. As for the beast's other injuries I just wanted the information about where she stole the dress from." The taller man smiled "I also don't know how you justify calling the beast a prisoner, it is a animal, and no doubt leaves a woman behind slaughtered for her clothing."

The shorter man looked horrified "no creature, especially another living, thinking creature, should be raped, and you know it you bloody fool."

Aethor chose that moment to step into the clearing and loudly announced to the two arguing men "I will have you know that she, has a name. Her name is Urzoth and she has been a guest at my home for many weeks now, I am the one who gave her that dress."

Both of the arguing men looked speechless at him for a few moments, but the larger man snapped out of it first and pushing the shorter man aside strode towards Urzoth drawing his blade along the way. "It is obvious this orc witch has bewitched you, good sir. Allow me to free you of its spell!" Raising his sword about to plunge into Urzoth's chest.

Aethor wasted no time and even as the taller man raised his blade was already swinging, the taller man's hands fell away the sword still clutched in them. The taller man briefly looked at the bleeding stumps of his hands and then turned to face the shorter one. Before he could utter a word, he gasped. Aethor's blade had sprouted from his chest, going straight through the heart.

Aethor let the taller man sink to the floor and pulled his blade free from his back. Looking balefully at the shorter man he said "If you had anything to do with this torture, tell me now, so I may avenge my daughter!"

The shorter man blanched. "Your..your daughter? but how..never mind. I can see how much she means to you" pausing he looked down at the taller man where he lay choking on his blood on the ground. "I am known as Alric, you have my word I had no participation in this...torture of your...daughter."

Aethor looked Alric up and down. "You stopped this piece of filth, from doing more of the same to my daughter?" Alric nodded. "Then you have my thanks. And my apologies for killing this bastard. I hope you will not mention my daughter to anyone?"

Alric shook his head "I will bury his body and depart. I do desire to know however, how did you have a daughter..such as she?" Aethor was kneeling by Urzoth's prone form gently stroking her cheek. "She is no natural born daughter of mine, but I consider her as such, and if harm falls on her, I will repay it with great vengeance."

Aethor turned his back on Alric and as gently as possible. picked Urzoth up, he whispered his apologies when she groaned from the stretching of her broken leg, it also became obvious as he carried her, that her dress hid more injuries.

Aethor walked as fast as he dared back to his home, he whispered apologies the entire way, sometimes for not being there, sometimes for getting angry with her, sometimes for jostling one of her injuries.

Arriving at the farmstead, Aethor gently laid Urzoth on the bed. Taking a knife he cut away the dress and loincloth that covered her body and casting them aside, he set to work gently bathing her body with damp cloths.

As the dawn rose, Aethor rode hard into the local village. His horse was blown and covered in sweat. Striding to the local healers door he banged on it hard with his fist. The door was opened quickly and Aethor explained the situation in a low voice to the woman. He swore that he would give her every penny he had if she could heal Urzoth.

To his great surprise the woman brushed aside any thoughts of payment after Urzoth's situation was explained to her. She had taken her own horse and shocked many of the women present by riding astride the horse. With her bag of supplies clutched in her hands she and Aethor thundered at a gallop all the way back to Aethor's farm.

Quickly taking charge the woman had sent Aethor to fetch a large straight stick as she set a bucket of hot water to boil. She had stood calmly as Aethor paced and finally getting tired, she had slapped the back of his head and told him to get on with the farm chores, whilst she tended to the young orcess.

…..

Hours passed, Aethor had taken as long as he could with the farm chores, but he was still finished an hour before the woman emerged from Urzoth's room. The woman whose' name he found out was Efene sat him down and told him "I spoke to that young woman whilst I tended her injuries, she is infatuated with you, she would bed you in a heartbeat if you asked and she would happily spend the rest of her days your wife, I ask that you either confirm or deny her wants when she has recovered, or it may grow too much for her to handle. She is a startling young woman so I ask that you treat her well. I have cleaned and bandaged her injuries. I am telling you know, keep her in bed. Do not let her out, her injuries are severe and she may grow restless, so talk to her. Keep her distracted."

…

A week went by, Efene came and checked on Urzoth often. She was healing well and was even hobbling around her bedroom sometimes. Aethor and Efene became good friends during that time and sometimes, Efene would come around to check on Urzoth several times a day. She told herself it was because of the serious condition Urzoth was in, but she found herself spending nearly as much time with Aethor as she did with Urzoth.

…..

On the day Urzoth was feeling strong enough to hobble out to the kitchen Efene told Aethor it was time to talk with her about her feelings. Efene had said that she would be there to provide emotional support to both of them.

….

Urzoth slumped down in a chair facing both Aethor and Efene. She knew something was up as soon as she sat down. They both had that look about their faces.

Aethor said in as even a voice as he could muster at this moment "Urzoth..I am not quite sure how to say this, so I will not try to bend the truth, I know how you feel about me, but I am not everything I seem to be, I have great rage within me, I don't think I could love you as a wife, I do not think I can ever love one of your kind like that."

Aethor was trying not to look at Urzoth's face as he said this, however he could not help but catch the drop of the face, the misting over of the eyes and the slumped shoulders.

"However, as I was trying to tell you before the events of that day, I lost my family, and that left a hole in my heart. One that I thought could never be filled….until you came into my life. You filled the hole in my heart and I am filled with joy when I see you smile...I want...I want to adopt you as my daughter, I want to fill the role of parent that you never had." Aethor looked at Urzoth. And Urzoth looked back at Aethor.

Urzoth, in a shaky voice said "I never expected this, I saw the way you two..." She gestured between Aethor and Efene. "..look at each other recently, I know you are both hot over each other, so you might as well get on with it. After I told Efene of my feelings for you Aethor I was expecting to be cast from your home in disgust, but now I hear you offering to keep me on and even love me as a daughter. I accept your offer..my dear father, and my soon to be mother." Urzoth smirked at Efene, who blushed. "I can move into the barn to give you two the bed again."

Aethor raised his hand to forestall her, "on the contrary Urzoth, I have two perfectly good rooms my children used to sleep in, as you are now one of my children, I must insist you sleep in one of them."

Urzoth's eyes misted over with tears, as she finally realised she had everything she had ever wished for

A family.

**AN: And that brings me to the end of my first story ****_An answer to a question_****, I hope you have all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Look out for the sequel coming soon.**


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